


Doing That (Fuck Nice)

by Butterfly



Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-04-11
Updated: 2004-04-11
Packaged: 2017-10-26 19:42:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/287146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterfly/pseuds/Butterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kowalski has plans. Fraser has different plans. Guess who wins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doing That (Fuck Nice)

**Author's Note:**

> Set post- _Pirates of the Caribbean_ being released in theaters.

"Do not do that, Fraser." Ray picked a spare pair of jeans up off the faux-wood chair and dropped them back on the carpeted floor, glaring at me. Though, I noted with pleasure, he did so without disturbing any of various articles of my clothing that were neatly laid across the chair. "How many times do I have to tell you not to do that?"

"At least once more. As always." Caught off-guard, presumably by hearing me deign make a current film reference, Ray smiled at me, his face lighting up. Sadly, he realized what I was doing before his eyes crinkled up at the corners, which was always my favorite part of Ray's smiles. Of course, he knew that and was taunting me. Ray was rather prone to taunting and teasing. I'd tell him how very 'not buddies' it was if I didn't enjoy it quite as much as I did. "They'll wrinkle."

"They're _jeans_. Jeans do not wrinkle. You cannot tell me that jeans wrinkle." Ray stepped over the jeans, which were already partially wrinkled, not that he would ever admit such a thing, then kicked them backward, under the chair, all without entangling his feet or stumbling over the fabric. Fairly good aim and coordination considering that he hadn't even bothered to look. Then again, knowing Ray, it was probably all sheer luck. Or, as he would have it, instinct.

"Jeans wrinkle." I said, fighting the urge to smile. I leaned against the wall, letting my gaze settle on Ray as he continued searching through his suitcase. Apparently, the vital item -- his 'kick-ass wifebeater', which did sound like the most offensive piece of clothing, yet really was quite attractive on him -- was at the very bottom. The 'kick-ass'ness came from the shirt's tightness, from what I'd been able to gather. And, indeed, it was very tight, and outlined his body in a very satisfactory way. Despite all that, I failed to see its importance in what he'd planned for tonight, as he was going to wear a shirt over it. I'd be the only person who would even know that he was wearing it. "I believe I can see them wrinkling as we speak."

"You can see...?" Ray turned to me, that delightful expression on his face. He'd once told me that it was his 'I can never believe a word the Mountie says' face. It was, as was everything else about Ray, a source of wonder, joy, and irritation. "Fraser, do we have time to play Superpowered Mountie? No, we do not."

"We have all night," I argued, wetting my lower lip with a quick flick of my tongue and slouching further back against the wall. Ray let out a frustrated sigh and I allowed a slight smirk to surface. Ray always did have a hard time resisting me -- he was much better at providing temptation than withstanding it.

"You are certifiable when getting some. I mean, more than usual. We do not have the time to do this and you know that, and yet you are still pulling this with me." Ray tossed a cerulean shirt to the carpet, where it provided a pleasing splash of color against the dull beige. He glanced over at his suitcase and then back at me, indecision clear on his face. I didn't move, allowing him to look his fill and decide on his own whether he really wanted to leave the room when we could be doing more interesting things. Finally, he pushed the suitcase off the bed, and practically threw himself onto the covers, rolling over onto his back, pulling off his shirt, and then bracing himself on his elbows. Even in the unflattering light from the hotel room's entirely unsatisfactory bulbs, he seemed to glow as golden as autumn's first changed leaves as he shot me what he termed his 'come fuck me' look. "Get your ass over here, Ben."

He called, and so I went. The bed's springs weren't optimal, but they were adequate, and so I found myself on top of Ray, pushing him further back onto the bed. As always, I was first at his neck, licking and then sucking. Today, Ray's taste and scent were overlaid by sweat and the faintest trace of... hmm, blueberries. Where had he picked that up? His response was as pleasing as always -- the fingers of one hand slid into my hair, holding me at his throat as he whispered soft words of need and desire. His other hand pushed my shirt up and I bit at the soft skin of his neck as he scratched up my back with blunt nails. I ran my hands down the sides of his torso, revelling in the glide of flesh on flesh.

I pulled myself away from his throat and moved up to steal a kiss from his begging mouth. We'd gone out to eat, and he still tasted of chocolate mousse and, more faintly, of salmon and white wine. We kissed for several moments, until I had licked out everything but the essential tastes that combined to mean Ray to me. I pulled away and he immediately wrapped a leg around me, pulling me down and wriggling up against me, impatience vibrating in his every atom, his eyes closed as he savored my touch.

"Wasn't there someplace you wanted us to be?" I asked, my voice filled with innocent concern as I pushed back against him, rubbing my erection against his through three layers of clothing. "You probably don't want us to be late. We do have reservations, after all."

"I fucking hate you, Fraser," Ray said, his eyes opening, dark with some fierce emotion. He yanked my head down, claiming my mouth in a forceful kiss that nearly left him breathless.

"Do you?" I whispered against his lips, rocking my hips against his, hearing him moan in a broken voice.

"Fuck, yeah." His voice was low and hoarse and he pushed against me, his head falling back to the bed. "Oh, fuck _me_."

I grabbed his hands with one of mine and held them over his head, leaning down to murmur 'thank you kindly' in his ear. Then I kissed Ray again and he bit my lip, not quite hard enough to break the skin, and called me a cocksucking son of a bitch. He tried to move out from under me, but I had the advantage of weight and position, so I took the opportunity to use my other hand to unbutton his jeans.

When I brushed my hand over his cock, his movements became more frantic and, though it seemed impossible, his vocalizations, more obscene.

I let go of his hands and rolled onto my back and he took full advantage of his freedom of movement, settling down on top of me, pelvis to pelvis. Now, he took hold of my hands, pushing them firmly against the bedspread. He took several deep breaths, cooling us both down a notch.

"So, Benton-buddy, here I am, trying to be considerate and polite, and here you are, being a horny asshole." He grinned down at me, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. He shook his head in... frustration and a touch of admiration. "Anniversaries mean going out and doing nice things. Which, I would like to point out, we've never gotten around to actually trying out. We did have a nice early dinner and we _were_ going to have a nice night out on the town, which, by the way, we do not see all that often. We can stay in and fuck any night."

His voice had acquired what I thought of as his 'explaining relationships to Fraser' tone, gentle and matter-of-fact. I licked my lower lip, and his gaze darted to my mouth. "Ray?"

"Yeah?" His eyes were still fixed on my lips, and when I flicked out my tongue again, he mirrored the gesture without seeming to notice. I bucked up against him once, then stilled my body, pulling my head to the side to bare my throat. He immediately leaned down to suck lightly on my neck and I pushed up against him in response, my dick straining against my jeans.

"Fuck 'nice'." I said evenly, satisfaction lacing through me when he swallowed involuntarily at my words. Developing this particular habit had been well worth the initial embarrassment. "Better still, I'll fuck you."

He let out a stuttering breath, warm against my neck, his hold on my wrists weakening.

Sensing blood in the water, I continued, lowering my voice to a near-whisper. "I'll push you back against the bed, lick you all over... love the way you taste, love the way you move."

He was breathing hard, his skin hot and sweaty, his hips pushing rhythmically against mine.

"Mmm, Ray, do you want that? Or would you rather go out and play nice?" I licked my lips, feeling achingly constrained in my clothes. "I can lick you until you feel colors and taste screams. I can fuck you until all that you know exists is my body."

He moaned against me, biting my throat softly and then whispering 'fuck' over and over.

"Fuck 'nice', Ray -- we're not _nice_ , we're incredible." I pushed my hips up against him, letting him feel me. "We're amazing, we're partners."

"All your partners get this treatment?" Ray murmured against my skin, the effort that it took for him to speak clearly at this point was very obvious. He pulled back, his grip on my wrists tightening a little as he moved to look me in the eyes. "If so, you are one generous guy, Benton Fraser."

I let my gaze flit over his body, taking in his dark and needy gaze, his damp and spiky bleached hair, his ever-present bracelet, and the sheen of sweat covering his lean muscles. He was sheer human electricity and he was, without a single doubt, every inch mine. I lifted the right side of my mouth up in a smile, dropped my voice into its lowest register. "Until I knew you, I never had a partner -- I didn't know what one was until I saw your face."

His hands released mine, flew to the sides of my face as he kissed me, his lips and tongue spelling out desperation and pure animal need. I rolled us over yet again, never allowing the kiss to break. I pushed his jeans off his hips, allowing myself the indulgence of smoothing my thumbs over his hipbones. He really should eat more. I pulled out of the kiss, and started to hold to my promise, hampered only slightly by Ray's attempts at removing my clothes. His words had changed, shifted into love and always and yours.

This type of sex with Ray was only slightly more wonderful than all the other kinds -- there were so many, but somehow, anniversary sex seemed to edge a bit ahead of all else. Usually, Ray was the aggressor, but on these special occasions, he always had to be coaxed into sex. Odd, yet delightful, like so many of Ray's quirks.

So I told him of my passion and trust and faith in kisses and caresses, stroking and licking every part of him that I could touch, noting all the various discrepancies of tonight's coupling. His hair gel was tangy and bitter, his hair only crisp on top, soft underneath. I licked behind an ear and tasted the slightest hint of plastic -- residue from his glasses, of course. I sucked on his neck in the same place I'd marked him earlier. I licked the sweat off his pectorals, avoiding his nipples until his moans increased in pitch, then sucked hard on the right one until his hand slid into my hair, pushing me to stay. Instead, I licked further down, my tongue eventually slicking down the near-invisible hairs that marked the way to his crotch.

I framed his hips with my hands before sucking gently on the tip of his cock -- he bucked up against me and I held him firmly in place as I tasted him. He was pleading incoherent words in a high, needy voice and my dick was twitching at the sound of him, at the reality and the presence of him. I took a moment to just be still, feeling his pulse beating in my mouth, feeling his hands tugging at my hair and at my neck. I slid my mouth further down, taking more of him into me, feeling the connection between us in its most physical terms.

I swallowed around him, feeling his body shake as he crept nearer and nearer to completion. I could feel him melting into me, surrendering everything he was to me. Ah, my strong, flexible, giving Ray, my lifeblood and true north.

I pulled off him, licking a line down his cock, sucking his testicles into my mouth and licking them until his moans were more like shattered memories of cries. I moved further down, licking at him, taking in his taste and opening him up to me. I slid a finger into him as I continued to thrust my tongue inside. His legs were wrapped around me now, his heels digging into my upper back -- a sensation that would have been painful were it not for the masking endorphins of sex.

Ray had been mostly unsuccessful in his attempts to disrobe me -- he'd only managed to unzip my jeans and haul my shirt up to under my arms. So after a final lick, I pulled away and quickly took off my shirt, jeans, and boxers. I pulled the small tube of lubricant from the pocket of my jeans and was back to touching Ray before he could do much more than moan in protest. This time, I slipped two fingers inside him, rotating them until he jerked up toward me, my movements practised and unhurried.

"Need you," Ray whispered to me, and I answered his call, as I would always answer to him -- with a yes and with an equal bone-deep need. I pulled my fingers out of him and moved up to kiss his beautiful mouth, tasting him until his hands trembled as he touched me. I opened up the tube with one hand, and adeptly slicked my cock with a light coating, then I tossed the tube to the side, only the smallest part of me noticing the soft sound as it hit the carpet. I brushed wet fingers down Ray's body, then shuddered as I touched my cock and positioned it.

I slid into Ray with one smooth thrust. I heard an unmistakable whimper from my own mouth -- Ray's body was tight yet welcoming, and despite the years, I had not gotten used to feeling him around me. I kissed him again, then pulled his hand up to my mouth and sucked in his fingers as I started to rock my hips against him. He tasted of chocolate still, and, under his nails, of engine grease. He pushed his fingers into my mouth, mirroring the movements of my cock in him. I sucked harder and moved faster, my free hand moving down to stroke his dick, to trace over the heated flesh with shaking fingers.

In a brush of a finger over his circumcision scar, I told him that I'd never known anyone like him. With a soft thrust into his willing body, I showed him that he was all I needed. His fingers in my mouth, I knew that I would never leave him. Everything he was, everything I knew, it connected together with him inside me and me inside him. I moved inside him, feeling myself breaking apart into his surrender. When I finally orgasmed, he shuddered around me, and it took but two quick strokes before he joined me in release.

We breathed together in the aftermath, and my heartbeat matched his.

"One of these years, you'll settle for a nice anniversary," Ray said softly, relaxing as I pulled out and placed soft kisses against his jaw. "We'll go out to a nice dinner, then go dancing at a nice club, and then we'll come home and have nice sex."

I snorted, reaching out to turn off the light and then settled back against Ray, his body fitting perfectly against mine. I wrapped an arm around him, instinctively moving to protect him from the cold, even though consciously I knew there was no need to do so here. "Will we?"

"Yeah. That's how I'll know when you're old."

  
_the end_   



End file.
